Fear
by Anne McSommers
Summary: Most people don’t realize that there are many different ways of being scared. For that matter most people don’t even notice there are different ways at all. But he does.


Standard Disclaimer, HP doesn't belong to me; neither does the line from galaxy Quest. R&R

Fear

Most people don't realize that there are many different ways of being scared. For that matter most people don't even notice there are different ways at all. They don't realize everyone gets scared for the same reasons. Just because Billy gets scared by spiders, and Suzie is afraid of fire doesn't make there fears different it makes their fear different. As I was saying most people don't notice this, but some do, and this is what this story is about.

Harry and his friends were preparing to floo to Diagon Alley when Voldemort massed his all out attack on the wizarding world, the beginning of the second war. Tens of hundreds of Dementor's swooped over the alley covering it in an eerie darkness which was only to be discovered for what it was moments later. Many raised their wands in an attempt to fight them off, but because of the shear number no one who tried succeeded. Harry, Hermione, Sirius, Remus, and the Weasleys were momentarily stunned by the scene that stood before them as the stepped one by one out of the fire place. Realizing that nothing could be done by staying they quickly re-lit the fire, but not quickly enough, out of the 12 that had came, only 11 returned.

Panic spread through the world as people huddled in their houses, fearful to leave their homes, as Voldemort's reign of terror was popping out all over the world, as those who were loyal, inspired by the attack joined in on the fun. Muggles and Wizards alike were being cursed left, right and center, and only two days after the attack commenced did it come to its completion.

Since the attack they had all been stuck in number 12 Grimmauld Place, because it's unplottability made it the safest place to be. Even the beginning of the Hogwarts school year had been delayed as a result of the attack. Not because of the safety of the school it's self, but of the opportunity for attack left open by the means of getting there.

The air about the house was one of sadness of fear as everyone sat on couches around the fire, talking more to fill the silence than the desire to talk. Well except for Ron. Ron hadn't shut up since the attack had been witnessed, hell he probably continued on in his sleep. It was the way he acted when he got scared, if you don't shut up, you can't think about, and you can't get scared. Not that it really seemed to be working, but it was worth a try.

Hermione hadn't said much at all since the attack had taken place, most likely because every time she went to open her mouth she began to cry on whomever was so unfortunate as to try to talk to her. Often it was Ron, because of his incessant talking. When you cry someone comes to calm you down, to comfort you, they kept the fear away, only if just for a little bit.

Sirius had been almost insane since that day. He jumped at the smallest sound, drawing his wand at whoever approached. His eyes looked haunted; it was as if encountering the scene in Diagon Alley had brought back all his worst fears, and all his memories of Azkaban. Lupin tried to help his friend, but he could not help him to escape his inner demons.

But still he was handling it better than others. Molly Weasley for example had had suffered a complete breakdown after her son Percy's soul had been removed in Diagon Alley that day. One of her babies was gone, and if it hadn't been for the overpopulation of wounded she would have already been sent to Saint Mungo's. As it was she sat in the living room with wide eyes knitting sweaters, as if by knitting the children sweaters it would protect them from the darkness of the world. Mr. Weasley wasn't much better off obsessing over his battery collection rather than accepting his son's death.

Remus sometimes wondered what his reaction to all this was. What strange mechanism for coping with grief had he come up with over the years? With all the lost friends and comrades in arms, he had to have one. All these people reactions had to seem normal to them, and he seemed normal to himself, didn't that mean he had to look strange to other. Well, he thought to himself, sat least I am not knitting and playing with batteries...yet.

He let his glance sweep across the room once more to further take stock of the situation and realized that in all his assessing he forgot someone, he had forgotten Harry. He looked around the room again and realized why, Harry wasn't there. He hadn't been there for the last two days, he remembered Harry at Diagon Alley, but couldn't remember seeing him after that. Concerned that Harry may be hurt, as he wasn't looked at by Pomfrey, Remus began to search the house.

He looked in every room, in every cupboard, in every closet, and even under all the beds, and still he had seen not one sign of Harry. Harry did come back didn't he? It couldn't have just been his imagination. Maybe Harry hadn't come back, that would explain everyone's reactions. They weren't acting odd; he was, not even realizing Harry's death. Now he began to re search the house, frantic for any sign of Harry. His bed didn't look slept in, he was no where, Oh God, and he thought to himself, he can't be. He couldn't be, not Harry, not so young. He ran to the bathroom where proceeded to get a hold of himself.

There had been no plans of a funeral, no one mentioned Harry, Harry's name wasn't in the Paper, so Harry had to be alive. But where could he be. Remus splashed some water on his face and took a few deep breathes as he headed back to the living room to ask anyone had seen Harry before resuming his search.

As he was walking down the hall past the bedrooms he heard a shuddering breath and he turned around only to see Harry sitting in a corner. He had to have passed Harry at least ten times, why hadn't he said something. As he got closer he realized three things, one not only was Harry shaking he appeared injured, two he was still wearing the same robes he was that day, and three because of the latter he didn't smell to good.

Remus dropped to the floor beside Harry. "Are you all right?" he asked, only to berate himself seconds later. Yes Harry was fine, which is why he is hiding in a corner in dirty clothing. That was always a sign of someone being okay. Harry looked up at Remus startled by the question, and as Harry's eyes met his, he could see the fear and sadness within them. A sadness that had been ignored two days as no one looked for him. Harry went to open his mouth, but instead looked back down and shook he head slightly. Remus knew it had to be bad if Harry admitted there was something wrong, Harry never admitted defeat. He was a "Never give up, never surrender" kind of guy, just like his parents had been.

He slowly put his arm around Harry and pulled the 15 year old towards him. He had seen so much for being so young, Voldemort, Cedric and now the attack. He held Harry and sad "Why don't you tell me about it?" Harry looked up confused "About what?" Remus smiled a sad smile; the question wasn't what at all. There was just so much to tell, where to start would have been the real problem. "What's making you like this, starting with the attack, and maybe going back to the events of last semester?" Remus held his breathe for a moment, it was a lot to ask, and he was afraid Harry would just clam up and leave, but then he didn't.

He started silently, almost to quiet to hear "We stepped out of that fire grate and it was as if my worst fear had come true. I know everyone thinks the Dementor's are my worst fear, that I 'fear, fear it's self' but it isn't. It really is what they can do, they can suck the souls of everyone I know out, and they won't even be dead. They don't kill, but they can still take everyone away." Harry continued on going back to the third task and talking about Voldemort's resurrection. In the end his voice had gone hoarse, and when he stopped he was surprised to find tears running not only down his face but Remus's as well.

Remus reached over with his other arm and pulled Harry onto his lap. He held the boy tightly in his arms as he cried for the childhood that Harry had lost. When Harry was done he helped him into a bath and then into his pajama's and tucked him into his bed. He went to leave, but as he reached the door he heard a small voice "Please don't leave me alone." He turned back to see Harry looking at him, eyes pleading.

Remus turned and walked back to the bed "Move over" Harry needed someone to take care of him, and it looked as if it was going to be him. Harry moved over, allowing Remus to lie down beside him. As he drifted off he thought about how he was supposed be downstairs taking care of Sirius and the Weasleys, well at least with Harry there was no fear of him taking up knitting.

AN: This was a one shot, based on a small line I thought up one day.


End file.
